


The Lost Artifact

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Contemporary Alternate Universe, Dreams, Dreamsharing, F/M, Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon never thought, that in all his years, he would ever see one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Slowly

Softly

Silent as ice

Jon treads over snow and fallen iron

Winds whispering home in his ear

While the ground turns more and more 

Foreign

 

There is a cry in the void

Not silent

But soft

A slow vibration in the frost

Maybe something worth saving?

 

Jon struggles towards it

Weapons and Ghost, stranded behind

He'll kill it with an icicle dagger if need be

Around bends

Under slopes

An orb of scales under the northern sun

Curled and cued

For a veining death

Pale as a pearl

Yet quick as a pulse

When Jon nears it

 

Flapping haphazardly about

Spitting fire screams from its mouth

The slipper-sized dragon

Weakens just as fast

Skimming over the air

And into the bastard's arms

 

His brows ponder in confusion

His mind is torn with possibility and tragedy

His eyes warm in fascination

Jon Snow has uncovered a lost artifact

 

Turning from the would-be grave

The bastard is a pendulum

Swinging backwards

When he feels a strange heat on his shoulders

 

A woman with silver hair and amythyst pupils

Wrapped in a blue that only ever surrounds the lucky lands

Trailing behind her, a path of bronze sand and desert green

She approaches with relief penciling her face

And hands held out

Jon must be dreaming

Or dead

 

"I was so worried!

I thought he was gone for good!

Many thanks to you, ser."

Dazed to a puppet state

Jon slides the being of scales to the lady

Who sings bright stars to her pet's ears

 

"How can I repay you?'

"There is no need, my lady."

"Please ser, I insist."

Jon thinks over the offer like a peasant

Then like a man of the Night's Watch

Then like a lord

Then like a king

"Just remember my face."

"Does this face have a name?"

"Jon."

"Jon of..."

"Of the realm."


	2. Chapter 2

Jon awoke in a pool of cotton and fur  
Nearly drowning in his consciousness  
He wants to swim back to dream island  
Take a few desperate laps around it  
Submerged in water as purple as her eyes

The bastard doesn't have the luxury to be superstitious  
But this had to be a sign  
A vision  
He needs to confront the tree  
On the other side

Jon's day was mundane as any other  
Chores and more chores  
Too much time to think  
Too many questions, and a whole population to unanswer them  
"Keep your mind off the fairy stories  
And more to the watch."  
The motto to live by was harsher than any storm  
Especially when it went against the truth

After hours  
Of mumbling pardons  
Jon escapes  
Drifting through the bowels of The Wall  
As the owls slept  
To face the crying weirwood  
And decipher the artifact, caved by his mind


	3. Chapter 3

Madly

Coarsely

Gangly as tree roots

Daenerys thumps against abused stone and leaf

Winds whispering home in her ear

While the ground turns more and more

Foreign

 

There is a whimper in amongst the dunes

Not mad

But coarse

A tremble through the heat waves

Maybe something worth seeing?

Daenerys skips towards it

Her steed and companions, resting at the camp

She'll sting a scorpion to it if need be

 

Around burrows

Under corners

A bush of fur under the eastern moon

Seizing and panting

For a boiling death

Pale as a pearl

Yet quick as a pulse

When Daenerys nears it

 

Galloping feverishly about

Shooting hellish smiles and laughs

The stallion-sized wolf

Staggers just as fast

Stumbling over its tail

And collapsing at the Targaryen's feet

 

Her eyes widen in wonder

Her mind reels with the unknown and the uncertain

Her spine loses _khaleesi_ state for just a moment

Daenerys Targaryen has uncovered a lost artifact

 

Turning from the would-be grave

The Targaryen is a pendant

Swinging backwards

When she feels a strange chill on her shoulders

A man with black hair and evening pupils

Enveloped in dark robes that mirror the sky of the unlucky lands

Trailing behind him, a path of cold carpet and white rain

He approaches with joy in his teeth

And knees to the ground

Daenerys must be dreaming

Or dead

 

"I was going insane!

I thought he was gone for good!

Many thanks to you, my lady."

Dazed to a marionette state

Daenerys watches the man ruffle the furry being

Who laughs compliments to his pet's ego

 

"How can I repay you?"

"Ser, there is no need."

"Please my lady, I insist."

Daenerys thinks over the offer like an exile

Then like a widow

Then like a _khaleesi_

Then like a queen

"Just remember my face."

"Does this face have a name?"

"Daenerys."

"Daenerys of..."

"Of the realm."


	4. Chapter 4

Daenerys awoke in a pool of silk and flax

Swallowing her heavy drowse

She wishes to walk back to dream island

Climb to the forehead of its every tree

Steadying herself on branches as dark as his hair

 

The _khaleesi_ doesn't have the time to be superstitious

But this had to be a vision

A sign

She needs to confront the fire 

From which she became whole

 

Daenerys' day was mundane as any other

Traveling and more traveling

Not enough conversation

Not enough education, and a whole population to educate

"Thoughts on the future,

And less on what never was."

The chant was more painful than a striking hand

Especially when it went against her instinct

 

After hours

Of tripping over steep unsullied

Daenerys confines herself

Behind the walls of her tent

As the salamanders dozed

To embrace the fire so red, sacred

And unlock the artifact, smoked be her thoughts


	5. Chapter 5

The Snow flurried his movements

Microscopic doppelgangers

Cheering underneath his steps 

Jon shines in excitement

He'll see her again

And will weave a twist of paper peony 

In her sunny hair

Undying like his curiosity

 

Arms soaring

Welcoming the weirwood

Jon's toes are greeted instead

By a wilted tree, mangled above a lap

A man

Of silver hair and amethyst eyes

Seated expectantly, with suns at his sides

_"Hello Jon Snow."_

"Hello."

_"I am Viserys."_

"Where

Where is Daenerys?"

_"She'll arrive soon enough, please sit."_

"I'd rather w-"

_"Please sit."_

Jon kneels like the stranger

Peeking at emptiness crowding the table top

 

_"Would you care for some bread?_

_Or maybe some cheese?"_

Viserys motions to invisible morsels on his right and left

"No, thank-you. I'm quite alright."

The false dragon has eyes of sheer anger

The bastard has offended his host

_"Please my friend, you will at least drink something_

_Won't you?"_

It's the least he can do

"If you insist."

 

Viserys cups his hands around the air

Offering it to Jon

He sees nothing but dying flakes

And hollow skin

_"I am insisting, Jon Snow."_

 

So the bastard receives an air-weight chalice

Searching for the invisible wine to turn visible

There is a wave of noir in his palm

But not that of sleek drips

Hairs, combined to appendage

Blanketing shiny paw-teeth

Dives up

And signature the address of the seventh hell

Over Jon's lungs

 

The paper peony  
Sleeps under cold sheets


	6. Chapter 6

Mother of Dragons searches the costume of the dancing flames

The embers

Conjure what earth magic they can for her

They dare not disappoint

Her arms are heavy with smile

She'll see him again

And will wrap the holiest of horse-made talisman

Around his wrist

Strong as her will

 

Standing tall

Receiving an oraclic story

Daenerys' eyes suddenly peer into ashen ground

And bended knees

A girl

Of red hair and river eyes

Sitting kindly with moons at her shoulders

_"Hello Daenerys Targaryen."_

"Hello."

_"My name is Sansa."_

"Where

Where is Jon?"

_"He'll be landing in a moment, please sit."_

"I'd rather w-"

_"Please sit."_

Daenerys lounges suspiciously

Rolling her pupils over the dishes suspended on the thin air

 

_"Would you care for some plums?"_

_"Or maybe some cake?"_

Sansa picks up each plate suspended at her waist

"No thank-you. I'm quite alright."

The she-wolf purples with frustration

The Mother of Dragons has offended her host

_"Please my friend, you will at least drink something_

_Won't you?"_

It's the least she can do

"If you insist."

 

Sansa entwines her fingers around a golden mug

Offering it to Daenerys

She is hypnotized by the shine

Mouth agape by glitter

_"I am insisting Daenerys Targaryen."_

 

So the Mother of Dragons clutches the heavy cup

Waning over the nauseous burgundy

There is a slither of emerald reflection

But not that of jewel-light

Sleek scales sculpted

Around fangs like swords of Old Valyria

Coils up

And signs the name of the seventh hell

Over Daenerys' heart

 

The horse-made talisman

Sleeps under a pyramid of sand


End file.
